Girl of Rage by Charles Sheehan-Miles Read Free Book Online Page B

them. A moment later the co-pilot stepped out of the cockpit. “We’ll have you ready to exit in just a moment, Mr. Wilson.”
    Crank had no idea what the plan was for transportation or luggage. But usually Julia had a car arranged. While she was busy on the phone he asked the copilot, “Um … our luggage? Has our transportation arrived?”
    “Yes, sir, I understand there’s a car here to take you to Arlington. We’ll have your luggage offloaded in just a few minutes.”
    “Thanks,” Crank said. He did know they were planning to check into a hotel in Arlington. Which one, he had no idea—he’d never really paid attention to that kind of detail.
    “No!” Julia said, too loud, into the phone. “Of course everyone will get paid. Just—tell them to take the rest of the week off. Paid, of course. Yes … I know it’s Monday morning. Yes, I know what that will cost. But everybody gets paid. I’m in Washington, DC right now—or I will be in a couple of hours, depending on traffic. I’ll find out what’s going on.”
    Everyone will get paid?
    Crank ran those words through his head. What was she talking about? Of course, everyone would get paid.
    Julia hung up and looked at Crank, alarm in her eyes.
    No. Not just alarm. Her eyes were … almost hollow. She was terrified.
    “Jesus, babe, what is it?”
    “The IRS. They served a warrant at the Boston office. Everything’s been seized.”
    “What?” Crank said. “What do you mean, everything?”
    “I mean everything. They took the records, the files, the computers. Mary said they took everything out of the office, told everyone to go home, then hung a sign on the front door saying we were closed for business.”
    As her words slipped into the curse, her tone went higher and higher pitched. “The IRS said we were closed for business, Crank!”
    “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” he said.
    “Doubt it,” Anthony muttered.
    “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Julia asked.
    Anthony rolled his eyes. “A misunderstanding? The same day your house gets blown up and just a few days after your sister gets herself kidnapped? I’m pretty sure you’re a smart lady, Julia. You need to start thinking this stuff through. Because if the IRS is after you, you’ve got real trouble.”
    Her eyes flared, and she said, “Thanks for the news, Anthony. Why are you along for this trip?”
    He smirked. “Seems to me you could do worse right now than have a journalist on your side.”
    She took a breath then closed her eyes. Crank could almost hear her counting. He could imagine the words running through her head. One … two … three … four … fuck it. Julia wasn’t the most patient person on earth. Her eyes snapped open. “My apologies. Let’s get to the car. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” She turned and walked toward the front of the plane.
    Anthony didn’t respond. Julia had the capability to turn on a dime, and Crank had years of experience dealing with her. Anthony Walker was a newcomer.
    Ten minutes later, Julia and Crank were sitting on the sleek leather back seat of a Lincoln Town Car, with Anthony in the front passenger seat. The car pulled out of the airport silently. Crank could feel the tension as Julia dialed again.
    “Marty? It’s Julia Wilson.”
    Crank nodded, slipping his phone out of his pocket. Martin Barrymore was their attorney.
    “We’ve got problems,” Julia said. Then she launched into a narrative about the bombing of her family home, followed by their detention in San Francisco, the questioning by Wolfram Schmidt, that freak from the IRS, and then the news that the IRS had apparently seized their offices in Boston.
    Crank was a musician. He was the lead singer and guitarist for one of the most successful bands in the world. He was, technically, a multimillionaire many times over. But when it came to legal or financial matters, he was out of his depth. Quite intentionally, he’d never really taken any interest in